Front Page News
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: Harry needs a boyfriend. Thankfully, Kingsley is a good friend. Rated for language.


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.**

 **Written for World Cup - Kingsley**

 **Word Count - 842**

 **Beta'd by the lovely Sam**

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 **Front Page News**

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"Help!" Harry begged, as he burst into the office, closed the door behind himself and slumped against it, breathing heavily.

Kingsley blinked at the intruder. "Erm. Hi?"

"Hi."

"Care to explain?"

"Maybe?"

"Only maybe?" Kingsley asked, an amused smile tilting his lips.

Harry shrugged, turning to give the door a suspicious look before he crossed the office and collapsed into the chair.

"So, I maybe just told Romilda Vane - who handles the hiring around here anyway? We need a new screening program, she's fucking nuts - that I'm dating you."

Kingsley, barely holding his laughter in, asked, "Why on earth did you do that?"

"Because she won't leave me alone and I'm scared to death of her. She's a creeper, King! She's going to lock me in a basement somewhere and dose me with love potion."

Giving up on holding his laughter in, Kingsley started laughing. "So what's the problem?"

Harry blinked. "Well. I thought you probably needed forewarning that we're dating now. You know, for courtesy's sake."

"Fair enough. You spend plenty of time in here when you should be working anyway, can't be that hard to fake."

"I'm shocked and appalled that you're insinuating that I don't work enough."

"Who's insinuating?"

…

"We made the headlines."

Kingsley accepted the offered paper, taking the offered coffee with his other hand.

"Ta for the coffee. How did the papers get this?"

"Romilda. Probably."

Kingsley shrugged, tossing the paper onto the desk. "Ah well, at least I don't have to faff around finding a date for the Summer Ball next month."

"Eh?"

"I can just take you."

"You know I avoid the Ministry Balls. Like the plague. Like… like as if there were clowns carrying plague ridden peacocks."

Harry shuddered.

"Okay, but your ridiculous fears aside, you're still going with me."

"Is it too late to abort mission? I think I'd rather have love potions while locked in a basement."

…

"What colour are you wearing?"

Kingsley looked down at his robes and then back at Harry. "Navy blue. Have you gone colourblind again?"

"That was a bloody prank!" Harry growled. "And I meant for the Ball, you tit."

"Of course you did. I knew that. Green and silver."

"You're going to make me dress like a Slytherin. I thought you liked me."

"I do like you, and you look great in Slytherin colours. Can't blame that on me."

"I'd rather wear pink," Harry grumbled, stealing a biscuit off the small plate on the desk.

"That can be arranged, you know?"

…

"You look… amazing."

Harry blushed. "Ta. Ginny picked the things. I just put 'em on."

"Well, you certainly carry it well. Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be, I suppose."

Kingsley, ever the gentleman, offered his arm. "Let's go then."

…

Kingsley didn't see Harry for almost a week. It was weird. Usually, Harry would visit his office at least once a day, even if it was only to drop off a sweet treat or a coffee. Kingsley even tried to visit Harry's office, only to find him absent every time he arrived.

He'd have been worried his friend was locked up in a basement somewhere if he didn't know from the other Auror's that Harry was indeed in work daily.

He'd have wondered if he'd done something at the Ball to offend Harry, but they'd had a brilliant night, laughing and teasing each other as they always did.

He was at a loss.

The only thing he knew was that he needed to fix it one way or another. He missed Harry.

…

"You've been avoiding me."

"And you just apparated into my flat without notice. Rude, dude."

Kingsley shrugged. "I've been trying to catch you at work all week. Not my fault you've been avoiding me, is it?"

Harry rolled his eyes but waved his hand for Kingsley to sit down. "I haven't been _avoiding_ you."

"Yeah, you have."

"Okay maybe a bit."

"We're back to maybe?"

"Uh huh. Did you see the Prophet the day after the Summer Ball?"

Kingsley nodded. "I did. Is it… was it the picture?"

Blushing, Harry nodded sheepishly.

A slight crease appeared on Kingsley's brow. "I thought it was a nice picture."

Harry nodded hurriedly. "It was. That's… that's the problem. I liked the way we looked together. A lot. And. Well, you know. I felt awkward then, and I didn't want you to think all this started as some convoluted plot, and then I think maybe I was overthinking but -"

"Breathe, Harry."

His blush only intensified.

"Come on," Kingsley said suddenly, standing up.

"Uh, where are we going?"

"For food."

"I have food in the fridge."

"You wanna cook?"

Harry shrugged. "I can. If you want. I have the stuff in for… erm. Lasagna I think. And… if we go out, we have to deal with the press. I can't be bothered."

"But if we stay in, how do I kiss you goodnight when I walk you to the door?"

Harry blinked.

Then blinked again.

"What?"

"It's a good thing you're pretty, Harry."


End file.
